Meet Your Match
by By My Pen
Summary: Dean meets his match. Sam finds it hilarious. And the woman in question fits right in to the Winchesters' lives.
1. Prologue (ish)

**A/N:** So I always liked Jo as a character, but I felt like the thing between her and Dean could never really advance. And then she went and died, goddamnit. I thought it'd be fun to throw in a new character that bests Dean in every way but that he secretly (or not so secretly) adores. A bit like Jo, but then a bit less like a sister.

This is set pre-season four I think, for now (I mean, I ship Destiel as much as the next person and as much as I love this character, ain't no-one gowna get between Destiel).

And this woman is English because there aren't enough English people in the show that aren't either the bad guys, a temporary character or just generally fucked up. (Power to the Poms.)

I have written lots of unconnected tid-bits that are just plainly for fun so if you want more, review away! XD

Hope you like it!

(Oh yeah - I don't know the first thing about cards, let alone counting them. So just let's all pretend like the (attempt at) jargon makes sense...)

* * *

Dean blinked as he stared in astonishment at the perfect hand laid out in front of him. Astonishment, because these were not his cards. This impossible hand belonged to the beautiful dark-haired woman who sat across from him; a woman currently wearing a smirk a mile wide.

"Perk up, sweetheart," she reached across and gave Dean a patronising pat on the cheek. "That look on your face makes you look incredibly stupid."

There was a chuckle from the other side of the room - Sam had long since given up on the research he was supposed to be doing in favour of watching his brother getting knocked down a few pegs.

"Ah, Dean," Sam laughed. "What was it you said to me that time? Oh yeah! 'Marry that girl!' Seems appropriate just now."

Dean was looking increasingly annoyed. "Shut up, Sammy. That was our beer money she just stole off me!" he growled. "How'd you do that?" he demanded of the woman, who was still smirking.

"You're not the only one who can count cards, honey."

"But that's just it!" Dean protested. "There is absolutely NO way you could have those car-ohhhh!" he smacked his forehead lightly, staring back at the cards again. "Oh, you clever, clever girl..."

The woman turned to roll her eyes at Sam. "_Now_ he gets it - _after_ I've taken his money."

"Well for those of us who can't count cards would one of you care to explain?" Sam came over to the card table, looking between the two players.

"Oh it wasn't that big a deal, really," the woman decided she should explain, given the dumbfounded look still on Dean's face. "I just made it so that slick over there" - she nodded at Dean - "thought that I had quite a terrible hand. I actually had the only other possible hand, which also just happened to be the best possible hand one could obtain. Apparently, though, your big brother wasn't smart enough to see the second possibility until it was too late."

At this point, Dean looked back up from the cards to grin at Sam. He stood up and put his hand on his brother's shoulder.

"Sammy, you speak wise words," he frowned, "or was it my wise words...?" Shaking his head, Dean continued around to where the woman was sitting on the other side of the table. Kneeling, he took the woman's hands and said with mock-solemnity, "Sarah Nelson, will you marry me?"

The woman - Sarah - burst out laughing and Sam shook his head at his brother's usual antics.

"Oh, Dean. If you proposed to a girl every time she out-smarted you, you would be neck-deep in bigamy right now," Sarah chuckled some more before leaning down to give Dean a kiss on the cheek. "You're sweet, if not very smart. How 'bout I buy you fellas a drink? Since I seem to have claimed your 'beer money'."

Dean stood abruptly. "I should propose to girls more often..." He turned and gave Sam a light slap on the chest. "C'mon, Sammy. It's not everyday a lady offers to buy you a drink!"

"Oh please," Sarah scoffed as she proceeded the boys out of the motel room. "I'm no lady. What kind of 'ladies' do you know who count cards?"

The brothers exchanged a look before following the beautiful dark-haired woman out.

"I totally would've married her if she'd said yes."

"Sure, Dean."


	2. Meet the Winchesters

**A/N: **Not sure how well-received the first chapter was so thought I'd throw something else in. This probably isn't what people are reading at the moment, really. What with the new season (aaaahh!). But, meh. XD

(Oh and btw, the ghost story is a (supposedly) real one from near my NZ home.)

(And please excuse any geographical slurs. I don't know the first thing about American geography - I just asked Google maps for help...Feel free to lend some guidance.)

* * *

The first time Sarah Nelson met the Winchesters, they pissed her off; not unusual when the brothers encountered other hunters.

Sarah had heard of a ghost story surrounding a hunting cabin - a hunter (the ordinary type), some 50 years ago, who had shot half of his own face off while cleaning what he thought was an unloaded gun. As the story went, he now looked for the missing part of his face on the people who visited his cabin. What had caught Sarah's interest was the deaths that had occurred there - people stumbling blindly into the forest with half their faces missing.

It took Sarah a day to hike the normally half-day tramp out to the cabin, choosing to go in the middle of winter when it was less likely that anyone might be there.

Imagine her surprise when she found two young men already inhabiting the place.

Imagine her annoyance when she found out they were hunters.

Imagine her absolute fury when the oldest one tried to hit on her.

When the ghost next appeared, she 'missed' slightly - almost hitting Dean.

"What the hell was that, your highness?" he yelled at her when the ghost had gone, as of her second (more accurate) hit.

"I don't know, Casanova," she replied acidly. "I missed?"

Sam had been laughing in the corner that time, too.

* * *

Upon the conclusion of that job, Sarah and the Winchesters parted ways with a grudging mutual respect and a means of contacting one another. Sarah hadn't thought anything would come from it, though; hunters of the supernatural didn't tend to hunt in packs.

So when her phone began ringing as she chased a shape-shifter through the streets of a small town in Wyoming, she glared at the name lighting up her caller-ID.

"Dean Winchester, you better not be calling to ask me out because now is not a good time to put you down gently!" she growled into the phone, popping off a few rounds at the shape-shifter.

Dean laughed. "Gently? When have you ever put me down gently, sweetheart?"

"Every time, darling. DAMNIT!" she stopped, panting, as the shape-shifter whhipped down an alley with a dead-end, seemingly disappearing entirely. "You better have a bloody good reason for making me lose my hunt, Winchester!"

"Oh, I do. I'm just much more interested in what you were hunting - werewolf? Ghost? Shape-shifter? I hope you had the right bullets in that gun of yours, sister."

"What d'you think I am, an amateur?" Sarah replied cockily. "My patience is wearing thin, cowboy. What do you want?!"

"Okay, okay! Not in a sharing mood, then!" he was enjoying this far too much. "We heard you knew a thing or two about witches...?"

"Oh yes? And where might you have heard that?"

* * *

The boys had been having particular trouble with one hell of a hag. They were quite near the Roadhouse, so they decided to check with Ellen to see if she knew any witch experts. When she suggested one Sarah Nelson, Sam began to laugh and Dean groaned.

"Are you kidding me?" Dean dropped his head down to rest where his arms were leaning on the bar. Sam laughed harder.

"I take it you boys know our Sarah then?" Ellen asked, eyes flicking between the two brothers.

"You mean the English 'tall, dark and snarky'?" Sam chuckled. "Oh yeah, we've met her. Why don't _you_ call her, Dean? I seem to have lost her number..."

There was an indiscernible groan that sounded very much like an insult from Dean's arms, only causing Sam greater laughter.

"Didn't work out well then, I take it?" Ellen grinned at Sam.

"Well, you know them both pretty well, Ellen," Sam grinned back, "I think you can imagine how it might have gone."

Ellen looked into space for a moment and a smirk grew slowly over her face. "You know, I can see _exactly_ what you mean."

"Could I trouble you for a beer, Ellen?" Sam patted his brother's shoulder. "I've got some time to pass while Dean here makes a phone call."

"Sure, honey."

Sam started to walk away with his beer but then he stopped.

"Actually," he said to Ellen as he sat back down at the bar, "I think I'd rather listen to this."

"Can't say as I blame ya." Ellen looked up and down the bar, noting it empty. "In fact, it looks like I've got a spare few minutes to listen, too."

Dean finally raised his head to glare at them both but when he was met only with smirks, he sighed resignedly.

Pulling out his cell, he said, "Do you think it's possible to kill someone over the phone?"


	3. Troubling Similarities

After a while, Sarah began to recognise why she hadn't got along with Dean very well in the first place - it was because they were too alike to be good for anyone. For instance, they both loved their food.

"Hey, was that a diner back there?" Dean asked the car in general as they drove to a town apparently troubled by a witch. The brothers tended to call Sarah in for those nowadays, after that first time.

"Dean, why are you always thinking with your stomach?" Sam grumbled.

"Turn around," Sarah demanded so suddenly that Dean did a very dangerous u-turn the moment she said it.

"What? Did you see something?" Sam asked her urgently.

"Yeah," she replied, tone considerably more relaxed. "Dean was right - there's a diner back there and I am _starving_."

Sam turned to stare at her incredulously. She shrugged and turned to look out the window. Dean just laughed. And laughed and laughed and laughed; all the way to the diner door. When Sarah ordered a steak burger and fries, a giant cookie and a slice of apple pie with extra cream on the side, he started up all over again.

"My kinda woman," he said when his companions turned to look at him for explanation.

Sarah glanced down at Dean's plate. "I like a man with an appetite." She then proceeded to grin at both brothers with a mouth full of food, rather unattractively. Dean chuckled once more before tucking into his own food.

Sam shook his head with a disgusted look on his face. "I hope you two are happy together..."

* * *

Another thing that struck Sarah as familiar was Dean's frequent culture references. She became rather annoyed at herself for enjoying them, too. In the end, she gave up trying not to laugh...

Jumping in the Impala one time, with the intention to drive to another investigation lead, Dean decided it was an appropriate time to wind Sarah up. By now she was used to it, though, so she didn't get so easily riled up by it - instead deciding to throw his own humour back at him.

"So, uh, that guy in there seemed pretty taken with you...?" Dean began.

"You're treading on dangerous ground here, Dean," Sam warned amusedly.

"Oh, it's ok Sam - I really didn't notice but I wouldn't be at all surprised if he was taken with me," she grinned and flourished a hand over her body. "I mean, look at me."

"You're very self-assured," Dean paused. "I like that."

Sarah rolled her eyes. "After all this time, you're still trying to hit on me? How many times does a girl have to say no to you?"

"Oh sweetheart, girls never say no to me."

Sarah chuckled slightly and kicked the back of his chair. "Shut up and drive, Short-Round."

"Okey dokey, Dr Jones," he leaned forward to start the engine then stopped and turned back to Sarah. "Hey, wait a minute, why do you get to be Harrison Ford?"

Sarah leant forward and grabbed his chin. "Because, darling, I am _so_ much better looking than you." Then she placed a kiss on his cheek and removed her hand from his chin to pat his shoulder with it. "Drive, slick."

"Did you hear that?" Dean asked Sam indignantly. "Did you here what that girl just said to me?"

It was at this point that both Dean and Sarah noticed Sam laughing. A lot.

"Oh yeah, I heard," he turned to Sarah. "Lady, you can stay."

Sarah grinned. "Sammy! I am touched, thank you!" She leaned forward once more and wrapped her arms around his neck from behind, planting a kiss on his cheek as well. "Do you know what? You're my new favourite person," she declared. Then, sending a wink Dean's way, she sat back again.

"You are so full of it..." Dean grumbled, starting the engine and shaking his head.

"You love me, really."


	4. Pub Crawl

**A/N:** Okay so this was inevitable. We needed some alcohol thrown in, didn't we? Luckily, Sam is there to make sure they aren't too stupid. But they're plenty stupid enough on their own. Maybe next time, I'll get them drunk without Sammy there, and see how that goes...XD

* * *

Sarah had worked with the boys on a few cases in a row now and she just couldn't bring herself to leave. And the boys weren't about to kick her out; she was a comfortable addition to their pack and the brothers both enjoyed her company. So one day, after a particularly difficult hunt, Sarah decided that they needed to celebrate.

"You know what, boys? I like this town!" she declared as the drove back to their motel. "Let's stay here tonight and go on a pub crawl, by way of celebration."

"Celebration? What exactly are we celebrating?" Sam responded skeptically.

"Defeating the demon? The town? The lovely people who live in it? Take your pick, Sam."

"I like how you think!" Dean said as they pulled in at the motel. "Let's leave the Impala here, though. No one is driving my baby smashed and everyone is getting smashed tonight."

"Fair enough," Sarah laughed as she hopped out. She linked an arm with each of the brothers' and said, "Where to first, fellas?"

Dean was about to suggest something but Sam hesitated.

"Guys, I don't know if this is such a good idea. We got beat to shit back there and you don't feel it now because of the adrenalin rush, but you will tomorrow. Add a hangover on top of that and you won't want to get up in the morning."

Sarah shrugged. "So we'll stay the weekend. No biggie. Like I said - I like this town." Sam still hesitated so Sarah let go of his arm but kept hold of Dean's. "Alright then, don't come. Me and Dean are going though. See you in the morning...or perhaps, not until late afternoon..."

Dean yelled over his shoulder without looking back. "C'mon, Sammy. It'll be fun. God knows you need to loosen up a little."

Sam stared at their backs incredulously then turned his gaze up to the sky as if asking the heavens for help with these two. When it didn't come immediately, he shook his head then ran to catch up. Someone had to make sure they didn't get into too much trouble...or into each other's beds...

* * *

Sam felt bad for the people in the next door rooms. He really did. Dean and Sarah were _very _drunk by the time they all made it back to the motel. And it was very late. Or very early. Sam himself had had too many drinks to know or care.

But he knew about the amount of noise his drunk brother could make. And was surprised by how much noise a woman with normally an abundance of decorum and condescension could make when she was drunk.

And he found himself caring that it was so much.

"Sammy! Sammy! Get your ass over here with the key, baby brother!"

Sam winced. Maybe he should apologise to the neighbours in the morning…?

"Sam! I gave you the key coz I knew you'd be a prude about drinking and wouldn't lose it!" his big brother demanded once again, possibly even louder than the last time. "Gimme the key! My bed is calling to me!"

"Alright, alright! Dean – just…shush, okay?"

"Oh, Sam! Re-lax!" Sarah piped up, just as loudly and increasingly unhelpfully. Sam gave an exasperated sigh as he finally got the door open and hustled the ridiculous drunks into the room.

"I call the big bed!" Sarah yelled, before running across the room and belly-flopping on the only double bed in the room. The other two were singles.

"Uh-uh, no way! It's my turn on that thing."

"Well, I ain't moving. So if you got a problem, Winchester, you deal with it."

Sam could see the situation before it arose. And he saw the light coming to Dean's eyes, ever so slowly.

"Dean-"

"You know..."

"Don't, Dean."

"…there's room on that bed for two."

Sam groaned in frustration and looked to Sarah for back-up. But there wasn't any to be found. Sarah was looking at Dean hungrily.

"A good solution. I commend you, Winchester." Okay, so her articulation and decorum had suddenly returned. Was this how she talked dirty?

Sam didn't think about it too much. The woman was coming on to his brother right now.

"I can't believe this – you two can't be drunk enough to actually want to sleep with each other?"

"Oh, Sam," Sarah replied, eyes still fixed on Dean. "The _want _is always there. It's the provocation I was looking for."

The younger Winchester looked between the two, feeling increasingly uncomfortable. Maybe he should just scarper and let them have at it. It'd teach them right – the pub crawl was a terrible idea.

But Sam knew he couldn't do that. They wouldn't thank him in the morning. Then it would all suddenly become his fault.

"Okay, look," Sam walked over to his brother and pushed him to a different bed. "Say whatever you like when you're drunk but you'll regret this when you're sober. Trust me."

Dean was becoming more pliant as Sam directed him to the bed, the alcohol taking effect on his consciousness. Sam took his brother's shoes off and lifted the sheets to make room for him under them.

Once he got Dean settled, he asked, "You gonna throw up? I can get a bowl."

Dean grinned. "Nah, m'good. G'night Sammy." He snorted unattractively. "Will you look at that – my baby brother, tuckin' me in." And with that, he promptly passed out. And proceeded to snore very loudly.

Sam turned to observe Sarah snuggling up similarly, but with significantly more consciousness as she lifted her eyes to his.

"Gee, thanks Sam," she grumbled. "Spoiling my fun…still it's probably for the best." She shuffled around noisily in her sheets for a few moments, before huffing.

"Okay. Tuck me in, too," she demanded.

Sam gave a noise that was half-sigh, half-laugh. He was drunk, tired and bruised, but it seemed he wasn't going to be allowed to sleep yet.

"What?"

"Tuck me in," she repeated impatiently. "I can't get comfy."

Sam didn't have it in him to put up a fight. So he strode over and arranged the sheets comfortably around her.

"That okay? You gonna be sick?"

"Nope. Thanks Sammy." He turned away, knowing she was seconds from passing out too. But he was stopped by a hand on his wrist. He looked back down at Sarah, seeing more clarity on her face than he would have expected the alcohol to allow.

"I mean it, Sam. I love Dean but it would have been bad to sleep with him." Sam's face softened slightly at that. Maybe she was actually seeing sense.

Sarah grinned.

"Well…drunk, anyway. A man's libido is highly affected by drink."

Sam wasn't laughing in the corner that time.


	5. The Good, the Bad & No One Here is Ugly

**A/N: **I love Westerns. I love Clint Eastwood. I love Dean Winchester. This chapter was inevitable. The episode where they went back to find Samuel Colt and the phoenix ash actually nearly killed me.

But now that a friendly reviewer has told me about 'Mary Sue', I fear for my character. So this is probably the last plainly funny chapter for a while, unless there are requests. I gotta do something a bit more realistic with my character.

(Oh and dear guest who reviewed 'f' - I thank you for your input but I must sincerely ask...what in all hell are you talking about?)

* * *

Staring down the shape-shifter with the poor dead man's face, Sarah felt completely safe, despite the profanities and threats it was spewing at her. She felt safe because she knew the Winchesters had her back.

Or rather the shape-shifter's back; they were creeping up behind it, moving in for the kill.

Just as it cocked the gun in its hand, pointed at Sarah, Dean rushed in a slit its throat with a silver knife.

As he was doing it, he spoke in its ear, "When you have to shoot, shoot. Don't talk."

Sam rushed to untie Sarah and she gave him a hug once her hands were free. Then, she stood up and strode over to Dean, who was crouched over the shape-shifter, examining it. When he saw her coming, he rose and turned to face her.

"Hey, you alri-" she cut him off by pressing her lips to his. When she stepped back, Dean blinked comically and Sarah couldn't help but laugh.

"What was that for?" he managed to cough out.

"I imagine it was a mix of adrenalin, pure base attraction and the fact that The Good, the Bad and the Ugly is one of my all-time favourite films," Sarah replied, realising that Sam was chuckling away to himself. Once again.

"Oh," said Dean, as if that all made perfect sense. "Hey, you know how I asked you to marry me before...?"

"That's starting to look like a terribly good idea," Sarah grinned.

"But in the meantime…?"

Sarah raised her eyebrows. "Clint Eastwood marathon it is."

"Yes!"

Sam had stopped finding this funny now.

"_No_."


	6. In Sickness or in Hell

**A/N: **I can update this story because I had some old stuff already written, unlike my other stories, which require new material.

Anyhoo, this one's a little more serious but ya know, had to be done. I might be able to develop more of a plot from it. MIGHT. I'm not making promises because I'm terrible at keeping them. Sorry.

So...ta-da!

* * *

"What scares you, Sarah?"

The question came somewhat out of the blue. Dean and Sarah were on a long drive and there was little to break the boredom so Dean had come out with that.

Still, they were talking about AC/DC a moment ago...it was quite a jump.

"Could be dangerous, telling someone what it is I'm scared of," she grinned playfully at Dean. "You could use it against me."

"That's why I asked, of course," Dean laughed. "But don't you think maybe it could work the other way? That I might want to protect you from it?"

"Protect me from my fears?" Sarah laughed, only to stop when she saw the look on Dean's face and how serious it was.

The two may have been very similar but this was where they differed; Dean took his moments to be serious but Sarah could never manage it. Instead, she turned it to another joke.

"Aw, Dean - I didn't know you cared!" she giggled and patted his cheek. He sighed a little angrily at this and pulled over. Turning off the ignition, Dean turned to face Sarah.

"Would you stop that? God, now I know why Sam finds it so frustrating," he shook his head and gave a huffing laugh. "But I don't do it _near_ as much as you."

"Dean, sweetie, a great many things that you do annoys Sam. What particularly are you referring to?"

"This! Shutting out every time something gets even a little bit serious!" Dean exploded, gesturing wildly. "I want to look after you, I want to be close to you! But you won't let me! You won't let anyone!"

Sarah had no response for this so she fell silent, staring straight ahead out of the windscreen. Dean recovered from his outburst and began to look a little sheepish.

"Sarah...I'm sor-" Sarah cut him off.

"Sickness," she said.

"Excuse me?"

Sarah turned to look at Dean in the eye. "I'm afraid of being sick...or hurt. Because...I am painfully aware of how frail human life is - it's not about the shortness of human life; I'll deal with my own death when it comes, being the inevitability that it is," she sighed and looked down at her lap. "No. It's just that humans are so...breakable. A cough in your direction or a wrist bent awkwardly and snap! Your body is useless and in pain and just..._broken_." She took a breath, rant ending, as Dean took in this information.

"Sarah..." Dean began, reaching out to put a hand on her shoulder.

"No," Sarah snapped. "No, Dean. I don't need you to _do_ anything but you're right; I don't let you in and...I want to. But there's nothing you can do about my fear so there isn't much point you knowing it..."

Dean shrugged. "I can make you wash your hands more often," he made a show of thinking, placing a finger on his chin. "Or maybe we can full-on bubble boy you?"

Sarah couldn't help it; she burst out laughing at the absurdity of this idea. Dean grinned and started the car once more. As they were pulling out, he said without looking at Sarah,"I don't care what you think, anyway. I'd do anything to look after and protect you."

Sarah snorted. "Sure you would, sweetie. Just so long as it didn't mean jeopardising Sam...or Bobby."

Dean had nothing appropriate to respond with about that so he steered the conversation a little. "I'm scared of going back to hell, by the way. And of losing you and Sammy. And Bobby. My family - what's left of it."

"Well, that's much easier to secure than mine so let's work on that," Sarah conceded. "So, no more deals, okay?"

"Except for this one?" Dean grinned frustratingly and Sarah gave him a disparaging look. "Okay, okay. No more deals, even if that's the only way to save you from sickness."

"Ah, but you forget! You promised not to let me _get_ sick, remember?" she grinned then leaned over to kiss Dean's cheek. Sitting back, she curled up at her window to sleep. "Wake me up when you get too tired to drive. And no pretending you're not - if I get hurt because you crashed, you will have broken that promise already."


End file.
